Tomorrow
by Alayna-The-Tallest-Hobbit
Summary: A main character from PotC is working when something unexpected happens... Complete


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Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just playing around.  
Rating: G  
Date written: the beginning of summer (yes I know, I'm very slow at posting)  
Setting: Two years after the movie  
My guarantee: I do not write slash because I believe it ruins the intent of the original authors and it makes me sick to my stomach to see characters changed like that.  
  
Author's Note: This isn't the first fic I have written, but it is my first PotC fic and I wrote it at first just as a experiment to see if I could capture the voices of these two characters. It turned out a ton better than I thought it would, so please enjoy and review.  
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** **Tomorrow**

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Clang!_

Sparks flew everywhere as the hammer came hurtling down. The only thing between the anvil and the hammer was a small piece of metal. Glowing bright orange, it formed the blade of a sword. The sword was nearly finished, almost perfect...but not yet.

_Clang!_

The blacksmith hit it again, flattening and shaping the sword's point. He loved making swords, loved everything about them. From beginning to end; forging to decorating. He raised the hammer again.

_Clang!_

Of course the thing he enjoyed most about his swords was practicing. Defending himself, attacking his opponent, and all manner of footwork came to him easily. When he first began learning the art of swordplay, he approached it with such enthusiasm it surprised his teacher. What fueled his passion was simply...pirates. In his eyes, pirates were the filth of humanity. They willfully disobeyed the law and caused no end of trouble. If he ever met up with one, he wanted to be able to kill it.

_Clang!_

As a boy, he was told his father was a merchant sailor. After his mother died, he went out looking for him. Instead he found pirates...and barely escaped with his life! He had always thought his father's disappearance had something to do with pirates somehow. Everyone told him his father perished in a great storm...but he never believed them. Not knowing the truth nearly drove him insane. Only swordplay kept him from going crazy. Often, he would curse pirates and the sea as he hacked through imaginary murderers.

_Clang!_

What he thought about pirates changed a few years ago. A friend taught him that even though some people were pirates, they could still be good men. This friend also informed him his father was a good man...as well as a pirate. Still, if pirates ever threatened his well-being, or harmed dear Elizabeth...

William Turner stopped the thought immediately and warily lifted the sword. He scrutinized the blade carefully. The searing heat from the glowing end made beads of sweat pop out on his already damp forehead. He longed for the cool night air with the scent of the sea...but he concentrated on his task, determined to finish.

_Whoosh-whoosh._

He whipped the sword around, paying close attention to the balance. It made a satisfying _whoosh_ing sound as it sliced the air. The handle had delicate gold filigree laid in it and felt comfortable in his hand.

Sighing, he fingered the handle thoughtfully. It was late, but Will was too antsy to sleep. He was full of nervous energy so he went to one of his favorite places to be—the smithy. Will didn't know why he was so nervous about tomorrow. Tomorrow was probably the most anticipated day of his life. What he gained tomorrow could not—would not—be snatched away, save by death.

'_Til death do us part..._he mused.

Will placed the blade's tip in the nearby water barrel. _Hisssssss_. Holding it under a moment, he watched as the glow quickly faded. As it cooled, he slowly turned the sword over and over, mesmerized by its stark beauty. His eyes followed the edge, up one side and down the other. Over and over...

"I thought you already got yourself a girl, mate."

Will whirled around, sword in hand, and saw the person he least expected to see.

"Jack..."

"Ah!" said he, gesturing. "That be me name."

He staggered closer to Will and set something down on a nearby table. "But of course," he continued, "that's not _your _name. Your name be William, and William you'll always be."

"What are you doing here?" Will asked suspiciously.

Jack grinned, "I heard about yer wedding tomorrow, so I came over t'help you celebrate."

"Celebrate?"

"Aye."

Will cocked his head and asked, "Why?"

Jack was hard-pressed to answer. He stood there a moment, forcing his slightly addled brain to come up with the reason. Walking up to Will, he put a hand on the lad's shoulder. Jack suddenly stopped his swaying and became almost completely lucid.

"Lad," said he, "you're about to get married. Your life will never be the same again. But you need to do one thing before tomorrow."

"What would that be?"

"You need to say goodbye to yer life of being single."

Will was perplexed, _what on earth could Jack be talking about? There's only one way to find out_, he thought.

"How?"

"How else? With a bottle of rum, lad!" With that he grabbed the full bottle off the nearby table. Jack plopped the bottle into the blacksmith's hands and looked expectantly at him.

Will turned the bottle around in his hands. The bottle was dusty, which was surprising. He had assumed the pirate drank his rum as soon as he bought it. Keeping an entirely straight face he said, "Elizabeth would never approve."

Captain Jack Sparrow grinned slyly. "Then we don't have to tell 'er."

Will smiled and went to the back room where the money box and orders were kept. He opened a cupboard and took out two small glasses. Walking back into the main room, he realized Jack had pulled two chairs up to the table. Will set a glass in front of him and sat down while Jack poured.

The pirate raised his glass in a toast. "To your wedding tomorrow, and your new life. May you be happy in it."

Will drank, feeling the liquid fire slip down his throat. His mind mulled over what Jack had said.

"Jack," said he, "that sounded almost...wistful."

The captain's eyes took on a far-away look. "Aye. 'Tis a lonely life, the life of a pirate."

Taking another sip, he asked, "Why are you really here, Jack?"

Jack ignored the question and began speaking as if he hadn't heard. "There's no lady or marriage on my horizon. No wife for Captain Jack Sparrow, save for the _Pearl_..."

"Why's that?"

"No self-respecting woman would ever want to marry a pirate! And even if one did, I'd never be able to stay in one place for long. The sea calls to me..."

Will nodded, he understood. Sometimes he felt the same call...to feel a ship beneath his boots, the sea-breeze brushing his face.

Jack's distant eyes returned to the present. It finally dawned on him that Will had asked him a question. "Why am I here?" he asked out loud. "You mean other than being here for your wedding and drinking rum with you?"

William nodded.

He took a good-sized gulp of his rum and answered. "To put it simply Will, I need something from you..."

"What?"

"You have a lot of them, so I thought you wouldn't miss one..."

"Jack," Will said, "get to the point."

"I need a sword, lad."

"Why?" asked he. "What happened to your old one?"

Jack sighed, reluctant to explain. Refilling his glass he said, "It's buried in a wall somewhere in Tortuga."

Will tried to hide his grin behind his glass, but failed. Chuckling to himself he asked, "How did that happen, I wonder..."

"Let's just say your sword-throwing trick is slightly handy in a tight spot. It's also quite good at getting rid of your favorite sword."

Jack leaned onto the table and looked at his chuckling companion. "So how about it, mate. Can you give me a sword?"

"Of course."

Sighing with relief, Jack sat back in his chair.

"But you'll have to tell me the story first."

Jack scowled. "If I must."

Taking another swallow of his rum, the pirate began. "It was late one night, I had just come out of a tavern. Bottle in hand, I was walking back to the _Pearl_ when a lady came up to me. Being quite drunk at the time, I can't remember if it was Scarlett, Giselle, or some other woman. Anyway, she walks up to me and slaps me face—"

Will interjected, "Did you deserve it?"

Looking rather thoughtful, Jack answered, "I don't think so, at least I don't remember deserving a slap..." He paused for a moment.

"Don't stop now!"

"What? Oh, right. So she walks up to me and slaps me face so hard the bottle drops out of me hand. 'What did you do that for?' I yelled at her. She just smacked me again, turned her heel and left."

Will raised his eyebrows.

"I threw my sword at her, but I missed. Got stuck in the wall, and stuck it will stay 'til the end of its days."

"So that's how you lost your sword."

Jack nodded.

"Of all the crazy and stupid—"

He pointed a finger at Will, "Stop. I know all that already. I needed a new sword and I wanted one that was well made. Also, I wanted to be here for your wedding."

Will smiled. "I'm glad. Go pick out your sword."

The pirate stood up and started looking over the many swords scattered over the smithy. After a few minutes, Jack found one that suited him. He noticed the red tassel, frowned, and very carefully removed it. Handing it to Will he said, "It does not look right on a pirate sword."

The blacksmith put the tassel in his pocket, thinking he'd use it later. It would be rather odd to see it on a pirate's blade. It was more for decoration anyway.

Jack placed the sword in its scabbard and said, "I'll be leavin' ye now. Ye should get some sleep afore tomorrow."

"Thank you, Jack."

"No, thank _ye _Will. I would ne'er get a better sword for so low a price."

_That figures_, thought Will. Only Jack would travel across the sea just to procure a sword.

"Don't get caught, Jack," he said seriously.

"Will," said he, sounding insulted, "you've forgotten something important."

The younger man looked confused, his entire face a question.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow: they'll never catch me!" He opened the door, walked out, and was gone.

Will shook his head. Jack was such a strange character. How on earth did he ever become his friend? He was glad they had met, though. Without Jack, he would never had found out about his father, or even proposed to Elizabeth.

Corking the bottle, he hid it in the cupboard. If Elizabeth ever found it...well, it would not be pretty. The bottle was still half full of rum and he didn't want to waste it. If he never saw Jack again, the bottle would remind him of the man who helped make his life the way it was now.

Seeing the almost-finished sword laying on the anvil, he picked it up and swung it around. _Whoosh-whoosh_. Eyeing the blade, he balanced it carefully on his hand. Smiling he thought, _Finally, perfectly balanced._

Suddenly, he remembered the tassel in his pocket. He pulled it out and attached it to the handle. _Perfect_, he thought. This sword he would put in his house, the one he would share with Elizabeth.

A few butterflies flew in his stomach. What if the wedding was canceled somehow? What if Elizabeth changed her mind? What if she didn't want to marry a common blacksmith? He shook his head. He knew his fears were unfounded. Elizabeth loved him and wouldn't give him up just because of his lower social standing.

Will blew out the lamp and walked out into the cool night air. The sea scented the breeze and he felt at peace. He knew he could sleep now, all his nervous energy exhausted.

He looked at the stars overhead, bright and cheerful. As he walked with a spring in his step, he thought about what tomorrow would bring.


End file.
